The Night of the Bloody Rose
by Agent Sandra Cartrip
Summary: James West has always been a lady's man. But he's fallen in love with this one, and is shutting himself off from everyone else. And no one can figure it out, not even Artemus...(UPDATE: As of 8/2/17 I have decided that I am going to continue the story, thanks to reviewer Tripidydoodah!)
1. Teaser

**The Night of the Bloody Rose**

**A Wild Wild West Story by Martina Ross**

It was a hot summer day in New Orleans. James West and Artemus Gordon strode down the narrow streets, admiring the tall, colorful houses that sprang up from the ground on both sides, the women in their bright summer dresses that often passed by, the parades of horses, carriages, peddlers, and even penny farthings. Colorful streamers, balloons, and flags were everywhere, and the place, as usual, was in a gay setting.

"Isn't a lovely day, James?" asked Artie, smiling as he pulled his brown hat over his eyes.

"Artie, every day in New Orleans in the summer is like this," replied Jim, "Unless it's raining."

"Yeah, but I didn't just mean the weather," said Artie, "Look at the decorations, the houses, the people, the women, young and flawless-"

"Artie," whispered Jim, "That woman."

"What woman? Oh." Artie's mouth clamped shut as an elderly, obese woman walked by. "Whoops." he whispered, embarrassed. 

"Well anyway, the place looks nice, doesn't it? I mean, not that New Orleans is never like this, but...but...uh..."

"Artie." said Jim, slightly annoyed. "I get it."

"All right then!" huffed Artie in exasperation. "Where is your enthusiasm, James? I thought our vacation in New Orleans was always something you looked forward too!"

"I'm sorry Artie, but you tell me this _every_ time we come here!" laughed Jim, "I could recite the entire thing from rote memory!"

"All right then." said Artie, standing across from Jim and folding his arms. "Recite."

Jim laughed and began. "Isn't it a lovely day, James? Artie, every day in New Orleans in the summer is like this, unle-"

Jim's speech was cut off by a loud scream. The men spun around to see a runaway chestnut Arabian and buggy with a screaming woman coming from under the bridge.

Jim wasted no time. He rushed to the horse and jumped onto its back, pulling on the reins. "Whoa!"

The horse reared and whinnied, then her hooves hit the ground and she snorted. Jim hopped off and rushed to the buggy. The woman inside panted hard.

"Miss, are you all right?" he asked.

The petite woman nodded. "I think so."

"What happened?" asked Jim.

"Some organ grinder's monkey got off his leash and threw his cup at my horse and she just got out of control."

"Where was that?" asked Jim.

"Just behind that arch." said the woman.

"I'd better take a look, just wait here," said Artie as he took off under the bridge.

Jim nodded then looked back at the woman. "Are you from here?"

"Yes, I live on 9th street on Braisette square in Dinahtown, 5 miles from here," she said, breathless, "I came down here to see if the peddlers and shoppers had anything interesting." She collapsed back, panting hard. "Guess I'd better head back."

"Lady, you're in no condition to drive," said Jim, "Would you mind if I took you back?"

The lady gasped. "Oh no, I couldn't Mr.-"

"James West." smiled Jim. "And I insist."

"Thank you very much Mr. West," smiled the woman.

Jim stared at her face. She was in her early thirties, had cocoa brown eyes, fair skin, and dishwater blonde hair pulled off her face and back into a bun. She wore a lavender dress with a lacy V-neck, matching hat with plumes and velvet, and white gloves. Her perfume smelled of peaches and flowers. Her voice was low and soft. Jim's eyes widened. "Miss, I'm...I'm..."

"You're what?" asked the lady.

"Well, miss, what I was going to say was that...hey, what is your name anyway?" asked Jim.

"Oh, it's Violetta Lee Carleton." she said. "I'm sorry that I didn't introduce myself earlier. Now, what is it you were about to ask?"

A strange fog seemed to come into Jim's mind. A weakness he'd never felt before gripped him. There was something peculiar about this woman that made Jim want to get to know her better. "I...believe I was going to ask you out to dinner at 7. At Miss Valgorba's."

"Oh, really?" she smiled, flashing her white teeth. "I'd be so glad to! Thank you Mr. West."

"Allow me to drive you home," he offered, "I'll come and pick you at 7 tonight."

"Thank you very much, Mr. West," the woman smiled.

Jim climbed in, and was just about to click to the horse when Artie appeared. "Hey Jim, I just searched the outskirts, and there's no sign of—hey, where ya going?"

"I'm taking the lady home," said Jim, "And I'm getting her at 7 for supper at Miss Valgorba's. I'll meet you back at the hotel."

Artie nodded. "All right then, but Jim-"

"Artie," said Jim a little irritably, "We can talk about that at the hotel, okay?"

"I just wanted to say-"

"Later Artie." Jim clicked to the horse and drove off under the arch.

Artie just stood there, gaping. Of course Jim was a temperamental and impatient man, but he was never rude, and most certainly never to Artie, and _never _in front of a lady.

For a moment he just stood there, a bit shocked. He couldn't understand why Jim had snapped at him. He hadn't done anything wrong. All he had tried to tell him was that he'd searched the outskirts and there had been so sign of an organ grinder nor his monkey, and no one had any idea of what he was talking about. Something had to be up.

Another thing that bothered him was Jim's face. While it hadn't looked any different yesterday or the day before or whenever, there was something about it that Artie couldn't quite distinguish.

_Anger? Fatigue? No. Distraction?_ Artie replayed the scene in his mind. _No, it was blankness! _But why? Jim hadn't looked like that earlier today. He seemed totally fine and alert as always. But when Artie came back from under the arch, Jim had looked completely emotionless. But he couldn't have been, or he never would have snapped at him for trying top tell him something quick and simple. He would just have to head back to the hotel and try to reason it out.

Artie walked over to a peddler and gave him a dime in exchange for a large, fluffy pink cloud of cotton candy. Artie took a bite. Although it wasn't his favorite treat, his fianceé, Sandy, who was studying as a Secret Servicewoman back in Washington, loved it. He often bought some whenever they were in New Orleans or at a circus somewhere, because it made him think of her.

_I miss my little girl, _he thought a bit sadly, _but it's just one more year, then I'll have her. Forever._

For the next few minutes, he just stood there munching, watching the parades or people passing by. Then, with a sigh, he tossed the empty paper cone into the wast basket and trudged back to the hotel, still trying to comprehend what he had just seen. Only one thought cut in: _Jim isn't ill...is he?_


	2. Monster in Love

Artie opened the door to the fairly empty hotel lobby, checked in with the clerk, and headed up the stairs. The sooner he got to his room the sooner he could reason out what he had just seen. The scene kept replaying over and over again in his mind: the blankness on Jim's face, the faraway look in his eyes, the sharp tone in voice when he had tried to talk to him, and the emotionless statement about his dinner with the woman.

Artie was so busy sorting out these thoughts that he didn't watch where he was going, and ended up colliding into another man.

"Gordon, what in the devil is wrong with you?"

Artie's head shot up to meet the face of the owner of the throaty, rasped voice.

"Colonel Richmond! What are you doing here? I thought you were back in Washington!"

"Thought I'd take a little time off and see what nonsense was going on here," replied the shorter, older man, "And what are _you_ doing here? I thought you'd be out enjoying yourself. I saw a nice pair of twin brunettes whom I bet would enjoy a date with you two." He peered over the agent's shoulder. "And where's West?"

Artie sighed. "Colonel, I think we'd better go to my room and talk in private."

"Is it serious?" asked Richmond as he tagged along, "Is West hurt? Or in trouble? Or has he gone missing? What happened?"

Artie opened the door to his room, "Colonel, I don't know, it could be a combination of all those things!"

"Artemus," Richmond sighed and sank into a nearby chair. "Tell me what happened."

Artie shut the door and flopped onto his bed. "It was very strange, sir. Jim and I were near the outskirts when from under the archway a runaway horse and carriage appeared. Jim managed to stop the horse and the lady claimed it spooked when an organ grinder's monkey threw a cup at it. I went back to check, and there was no sign whatsoever of either one, and no one claimed to see one. I went back to check on Jim and I saw him sitting in the carriage with the woman." He paused.

"And?" prompted Richmond.

"Colonel," Artie said slowly, "I didn't like what I saw. He kept staring at her. His face was completely blank. His eyes seemed to be someplace else. I asked him what he was doing and replied he was taking the lady home and out for dinner at Miss Valgorba's at seven. He sounded like...almost like he was in a trance or something."

Richmond seemed to be taking it all into consideration. "I see. And then?"

"I tried to tell him that there was no grinder or monkey," said Artie, "he interrupted and told me we'd talk when he got back. When I tried again, he became very irritated and told me off. Right in front of the lady."

"West is a man of impatience and temper," Richmond said softly, "You know how he is with women and getting his way."

"I know Colonel," said Artie, "But Jim was very rude about it. He snapped at me in front of the woman. He _never _does that, Colonel. His behavior was peculiar, even for him."

Richmond was quiet. "That doesn't sound like Jim at all. How was he when you came here?"

"Why, alert as always," said Artie, "He didn't start displaying any questionable behavior until I got back from the outskirts."

"Are you trying to tell me the woman made him act that way?" asked Richmond, "Isn't that putting it on a little thick?"

"Colonel, as far-fetched as it sounds, yes, I do." He leaned closer and lowered his voice. "Colonel, I didn't have a good feeling about her. I didn't like her overly radiant face. There was something fake about it. I felt like she was somehow trying to seduce, perhaps hypnotize, Jim into following along with her game."

Richmond nodded. "I see. Can you give me any description on her?"

"Well, she was petite, early thirties, had dark blonde hair, cocoa brown eyes, fair skin, and she wore a lavender summer dress. And that perfume...it..." Artie's voice trailed off.

"What is it now, Gordon?" demanded Richmond impatiently.

Artie looked into his eyes. "I didn't like that perfume she was wearing. It irritated my nose. It's scent was of peaches and flowers, and it was soft but-" Artie coughed, "-very pungent. And it too, seemed fake. It nearly clogged my mind, and..." Artie smacked his hands together. "Of course!"

"Of course what?" demanded Richmond, standing up. "And what is it about this perfume? Are you trying to tell me that the woman's face and perfume hypnotized West so that he'd run off with her? If you're telling me that's so, then-"

"No Colonel, don't you see?" said Artie growing excited at the prospect, "Men have a nose for soft, womanly scents, right?"

"I suppose so," said Richmond, "But-"

"Do you realize what women could do if they upgraded those scents, and perhaps, chemically treated them, so that it worked on the men's noses, and maybe even their brains?"

"Gordon, perfume does not control a man!" Richmond barked, "It can attract, maybe, but it can't control."

"I haven't completely figured it out yet myself, Colonel, but I bet that's what's driving Jim crazy." said Artie, "I bet he could even fall in love with her like no one else!"

Richmond stared. Artie's smile faded. "But that means..."

Richmond nodded. "West is in love."

"And if that's so, and the woman's perfume _could _control him..." Artie's stomach tightened. "Our hero has become our enemy."

Richmond nodded again. "And if we managed to get him back, or even break him free of the trance..."

Artie's eyes were soft. "His heart would be broken. Jim West would be a damaged man."

It was now Richmond's turn to have his mouth gape. "I never thought I'd hear anyone, especially you Gordon, say that."

Artie nodded. "Jim's a tough man. But he's not a machine. He has feelings, Colonel. And any man's feelings can be shattered. Some people get over it and move on. But others..."

"I'm beginning to see." said Richmond, "If he gets too close to her, and we have to pull them away, he'll-"

Artie nodded. "He'd never be the same man again."

Richmond was quiet. "I don't want to see West broken."

Artie sighed. "We don't have a choice. We can't pick one man's heart over an entire country. We'll just have to hope he'll be willing to accept the loss and move on. But even if he did, he'd still be damaged. We'll still have lost our hero."

Richmond sighed. "Well, I guess I'd better head back to the office and try to find a file on the lady. Did you get her name?"

Artie shook his head. "No sir."

Richmond nodded understandingly. "All right. I'll see you at five. If Mr. West returns, that is."

Artie sighed. "I guess we'll find out tonight."

"Bye Gordon," said Richmond as he closed the door behind him.

Artie sat down on the bed and put his head into his hands. He didn't want to see his friend's spirit crushed. It was one thing to brave a war where one sees his young comrades's heads blown off the by enemy shells, or die by his side or on his feet. He knew Jim had faced that. Artie himself had, too. The memories never died, but after a time, he'd built an immunity to the haunt they brought.

But being deeply in love with someone, and having that someone eventually betray you, is another thing. A broken heart hurts worse than any bodily wound. And Artie had had such an experience with his second wife, Muriel, who died before he could finalize a divorce. But the hurt had lasted for a long time until he met Sandy after his first day in the Secret Service. But he didn't want to be hurt again, and tried to avoid and bury the feelings he had for her. But when he got to know her better, he knew he couldn't banish them. It had been hard at first, a little frightening even, but he soon learned that Sandy loved him and wanted a chance with him. But just after they became engaged, Sandy's application for the Secret Service had been accepted, and she was sent to Washington to be trained, which often meant that they hardly saw each other, even on holidays.

Suddenly, a wave of tearful loneliness swept over him. Artie picked up the photo of her that sat on the little desk and hugged it close to his chest, wishing she was here. Maybe she'd know what to do.

…...

Dinahtown was a quiet, rather empty little village a few miles from the outskirts of New Orleans, consisting mostly of little white farmhouses with wide green pastures. At Violetta's bidding, Jim West pulled up at one of those little white houses with white fencing and a red roof.

"Here we are," Violetta smiled, "This is my home."

"It's lovely," smiled Jim, "All yours?"

"Yes," said Violetta as they stepped out. "It's pretty but practical for me. And it's nice and quiet out here."

"So I take it that New Orleans is no place you'd want to live." said Jim as he held open the gate.

"Indeed," said Violetta as she walked through, "Don't get me wrong, I love to visit it, but it's always been too noisy and crowded for me."

"I see," said Jim as he tagged along.

Violetta stopped on the brick red steps and turned back to Jim. "Do you live in New Orleans, Mr. West?"

"No," said Jim, "As a matter of fact, we only come here on vacations or assignments. I have thought of moving here, but Mexico kinda seems more like my ideal place."

"I've never been to Mexico," said Violetta dreamily, "Maybe we could both go."

"I'm sure we could someday," said Jim. "Are you feeling up to dinner tonight?"

"Yes," said Violetta, "I'll see you at seven."

"All right. See you then." Jim started down the steps.

"And Mr. West?"

Jim stopped and turned. "Yes?"

Violetta walked up to him and put a hand on his shoulder. "Thank you so much for taking me back, Mr. West."

Jim smiled at her. "My pleasure. But if you please, Miss Carleton, I'd much rather be called Jim."

"And you can call me Vi." She pressed her lips against Jim's, locking her arms around him. They parted. Violetta sighed softly. "Oh, James."

"Violetta." Jim smiled back.

Vi sniffed. "I think I have something to confess at dinner tonight."

"Do you want to get it off your chest now?" asked Jim.

"No no," said Vi, "Not here. Not now. Let me freshen up and change. I'll meet you at seven."

"Do you want me to wait?" he offered.

"No thank you, Jim," said Vi, "Go on back to your hotel or wherever your staying. We'll meet up later."

"Okay. See you at seven," called Jim as he started towards the gate.

"Bye Jim!" called Vi, "See you in a few hours!"

Those six words sent a happy echo into Jim's mind_. _Smiling, he trudged over to the carriage and untied his horse. Swinging onto his back, he clucked and they took off down the dirt road.

…...

It was dusk. Artie was seated at a desk, writing a letter to Sandy when he heard a knock on the door. When he opened it, Richmond walked in. "Good evening, Gordon."

"Good evening, Colonel." replied Artie.

"Is West back?" he asked, taking a seat in the cushy chair by the bed.

"No sir." said Artie, "But I think he will be soon. Did you find any reports on the woman?"

"None," said Richmond, "No one of that description. If I had the name, perhaps I could, but even then I can't guarantee we'd find her."

"I'll try talking to Jim," said Artie, "I'm sure he'll confide into me."

"Unless he thinks you'll try to steal her," Richmond said, warning in his voice.

"Steal her?" asked Artie, surprised. "I wouldn't do such a thing! Why would I? Besides, Sandy's worth a thousand women to me."

"You must remember West's peculiar behavior," said Richmond, "He may be cold to you if you keep prying into this. I'm not saying you shouldn't, but you'd better watch out for it."

Artie nodded. A pit formed into his stomach. "Should I try to detain him from visiting her?"

Richmond sighed considerably. "You can, but he will not react pleasantly. You're best bet is to somehow spy on them. My guess is she'll be unleashing lots of information about herself and her interests. Do you think you can do that?"

"I'll have to go undercover and keep my back turned, but, yes, I can." said Artie.

"Good." said Richmond, after a slight pause. "But I think we'd better pipe down."

"Huh?"

"We have company."

Artie turned to see the door swing open, revealing a grinning Jim. "Hi Artie!" he said as he tossed his royal blue coat onto the bed. "And hello, Colonel."

Artie and Richmond exchanged uncomfortable looks. "You seem to be in a gay mood tonight, West." said Richmond.

"Why thank you, Colonel," said Jim as he began rummaging through his wardrobe. "I'm very excited about tonight."

"Em, Jim, what _are_ you, uh, doing tonight?" asked Artie between nervous smirks.

"Going out with the lady tonight at seven," Jim called from underneath a drawer-full of shirts. "At Miss Valgorba's. It's a private date, though, or I would have invited you."

Artie's mouth dropped open in shock. This wasn't James West speaking! It just wasn't!

Richmond sensed something was wrong. "Really? Who's the lady?"

"The one I rescued when her horse bolted," said Jim as he selected a clean white shirt.

"What's her name?" asked Artie in his nicest tone.

Jim's head shot around. "Why do you care, Artie?" He yanked his fancy green jacket off the hanger.

Artie felt like someone hit his stomach with a brick. "I was only asking because I wanted to know if she was a, uh...a Leonelle! I love that name when it comes to ladies with dark blonde hair and dark brown eyes."

Jim flipped his dress pants over his shoulder and pointed his finger at Artie. "Oh no, you don't! You just want to steal her from me! I'm not falling for any of your tricks, pal."

At "pal" Artie flinched slightly. "I didn't mean to pry into your personal matters, Jim, but I thought-"

"Shut up!" Jim banged his fist onto the bedside table. The clock and lamp rattled and almost tipped over. "Quit trying to disguise your questions, okay?"

Artie wanted to reply, but kept his mouth shut as Jim disappeared behind the room divider. Out of the corner of his mouth Richmond said, "Do you think that...that..._chemically treated perfume..._was also designed to make him irritated easily?"

"I think so." said Artie, "He's never been like this before. I didn't think he'd react like this."

"It was a simple question," said Richmond quietly, "Whatever's in that perfume is most certainly capable of irritating one's nerves."

Jim emerged from behind. "If you don't mind, I'll be getting a head start. After all, it is a long ride. Good evening, gentlemen."

"Hold it Jim!" said Richmond as he bolted from his chair and grabbed Jim's jacket. "Where do we meet you?"

"I told you, it's just me and my date," he said, his tone clipped.

"I meant after the date," said Richmond.

"Here at nine." said Jim. "I trust you won't be following me around."

A rock formed in Artie's stomach.

"I completely doubt it," said Richmond, "I have files to find, and Gordon has a report to write and turn in. Don't you, Gordon?"

"Yes sir," said Artie, sinking into the desk chair.

"All right then," said Jim, opening the door, "I'm heading off. I'll see you later tonight. Good evening."

The door shut before Jim finished his statement.

Artie let out a shaky sigh. "That's not Jim," he said in a near whisper, "That's a love-crazy monster."

Richmond sighed, "Jim's behavior has never been this bad."

"What do we do, Colonel?" asked Artie, almost desperately.

"First things, first," said Richmond, "We need to find who that woman is and why she's so interested in Jim. Then we need to find a sample of that perfume, figure out what it is, and where it's from. Then we need to find out the woman's intentions. Once we have enough evidence, we can issue an arrest if she's doing anything illegal."

"What about Jim?" asked Artie.

Richmond sighed. "Jim will probably be damaged. I don't know if he'll just be depressed or very angry at us for taking him away from the woman he loves. He may get over it and move on. But if he doesn't, or his temper gets violent..." Richmond took a deep breath. "I'll have no choice but to place him in a sanitarium. Possibly for the rest of his life."

Artie stood up at attention. "You can't do that, Colonel, you can't!" he exclaimed, "Jim can't be that bad off!"

But the look on Richmond's face, and the gut feeling in his stomach, told him otherwise.

Artie sank back down into his chair. "No," he whispered. "No."

Richmond shook his head sadly. "I'm sorry Gordon. I don't want to, but we may not have a choice. It's for his own good. If it happens, there's only two things I can offer for you."

Artie glanced up. "What's that?"

"Unlimited visiting hours, and a room next to his." the Colonel said softly.

Artie glared at Richmond. "Are you trying to tell me that _I'm _going crazy too?"

"Gordon, do you think I'll have an option when you try to break West out?" Richmond said, raising his voice.

"Whatever gave you _that _idea?" Artie exclaimed, "How could you even expect me too?"

"I don't know, but I'm gonna have to watch you during this procedure." said Richmond as he headed for the door. "Now who knows, West may be hurt for a time, then he'll forget about it. But in everything you do, you must prepare for the most likely outcome, not the least likely. And Gordon, I think it's very, very unlikely that Jim's fits of anger are going to leave him for a long time, if ever."

Artie nodded, too upset to speak.

Richmond sighed. "I'll be checking in on your progress. Good evening."

"'Evening," muttered Artie as Richmond departed.

Once the door was shut, Artie buried his head into his arms as tears blurred his vision. Tearing sobs raced through his body. He couldn't believe he was loosing his best friend like this.

He knew he couldn't prevent Jim from liking this woman. It was his choice to go after a woman and lock everyone else in the world out. It wasn't going to be his choice when that woman betrayed him after getting what she wanted out of him.

Aside from Artie's wishes of having his friend back, there was one he wished he had thought of before hand:

He wished they had never come to New Orleans.

**TBC**


	3. A Night At Miss Valgorba's

Jim pulled his horse up to farmhouse and tied him to the buggy. He trotted up to the steps and knocked on the door. "Violetta?"

"Just one moment, James," was the muffled reply, "I'm almost ready."

"All right. Don't stay in there too long," he replied with a smile.

The door opened. Violetta, in a sleeveless V neck dress coated in sparkles, stepped out to meet Jim. Her diamond jewelry sparkled with every little step she took. They were even woven into her hair, which was pulled back with several ringlets falling to her shoulders. "Are you ready, James?"

Jim could only stare back. All he could see was her face...her beautiful, radiant face. All he could hear was her lovely voice, all he could smell was her perfume of peaches and flowers...

"Jim?" she repeated, "Are you ready?"

"Yes, Miss," Jim said slowly, extending his arm. "Please come with me."

Violetta graciously accepted it and they made their way down the steps and into the carriage. Jim clucked to the horse and they headed back to New Orleans.

…...

Miss Valgorba's was a lively place with some of the best German cuisine in the country. When Jim and Violetta pulled up, it was crowded and noisy, but neither of them seemed to mind. They calmly stepped inside.

"Good evening, Sir, Ma'am," said a waiter with a heavy, coarse German accent. "Want a private booth?"

"Please," said Jim with a smile at his date.

The waiter led them to a table with two brown booths across from each other. "Have a seat, and I'll fetch you some drinks." he pulled out a pad, "Sir_,_ what kind of a drink can I get for you?"

"May we see your wine list?" asked Jim.

"Of course, sir, be right back." He disappeared behind the dark green curtains and came back with two lists.

"Do you need a few minutes to decide, or do you see something you like?" he asked.

Jim studied the list. "A Kottbusser for me,please."

The waiter nodded. "How about you, Miss?"

Vi studied the list for a second. "I'll give your Kölsch a try." she said at last.

"All right then!" said the waiter, taking the lists. "I'll be right back with your drinks and a menu!" With that he disappeared behind the curtain.

Jim took Vi's hand and sighed. "Alone at last."

"Yes," she agreed quietly.

"Do you want to tell me what's on your mind?" he asked.

"I will once we've had our drinks," said Vi, "My throat is so dry."

"All right," said Jim. "So, do you like German cuisine?" he asked, changing the subject.

"I've never even had it." she said, "But I bet it's quite good."

"I think you'll enjoy it," said Jim, "Give it a try."

Just then the curtains swung aside, and the waiter came back with the drinks. "There you are!" he said, "That'll keep you from dying of thirst while you decide on what to order."

"Thank you_,_" said Jim as he departed. He studied the list. "How about we start off with an appetizer?"

"Sounds all right to me," said Vi. "What do you propose we get?"

"I propose we try Pottwurst." said Jim.

"What's that?"

"A Knipp."

"What?"

"Well, it's made with oat groats, broth, pork head, rind, belly and liver and seasoned with salt allspice and pepper."

Vi wrinkled her nose. "I think I'll look at something else."

"All right. You can get a separate, if you want." smiled Jim.

Vi nodded and checked her menu. "This Knödel looks good. It's dumplings made of raw and cooked potatoes with pan-fried toast-bread inside."

"All right then," said Jim, "When he comes back, we'll tell him."

As if on cue, the waiter returned with the drinks. "Have you made a decision, or do you need more time?"

"We'd like to start with an appetizer," said Jim. He gave the order and the waiter left.

Violetta sipped her drink. "Nice little place."

"It is, isn't it?" smiled Jim. "So darling, what did you want to tell me?"

"Well James," she said uncomfortably, "I...I have a confession to make. Please don't get angry."

"Why would I get angry?" asked Jim, "Is something wrong?"

"Well..." Vi started, "It happened after you rescued me. I...I was worried you were going to get hurt, and then you had the courtesy to take me home and out to dinner, and well, I...I had this weirdly amazing yet mysteriously haunting feeling inside me that I just couldn't forget, and...I was amazed at how much I was looking forward to dinner...because...you were going to be there."

Jim nodded. "I see. Anything else?"

"Yes," said Vi. She took a deep breath. "James West, I think...that..."

"You're in love with me?" asked Jim.

"Yes!" exclaimed Vi. "Honest, I couldn't help it!"

An awkward silence followed. Jim just nodded, and, to Vi's surprise, smiled. "Is that what was bothering you? Why Vi, I have the exact same feelings for you!"

Vi's eyes lit up. "Really? You do?"

"Yes," said Jim.

"Oh! Well I-I have no idea what to say!" She burst out laughing.

Jim smiled and laughed too.

"I don't know why!" she insisted, "I guess I'm just releasing stress in a pleasant way!"

"Hey, that's good!" said Jim, "There's simply no reason for you to feel any discomfort or stress around me. You're a very nice girl, Vi, and I'm very lucky to have you."

"I'm so glad!" she smiled, "I-I've never had such a sweet boyfriend before!"

Jim's eyes became wide. "You've had other boyfriends before."

"Of course!" said Vi, "But they never lasted a night! Let me tell you about Mooreland..."

…...

The kitchen was steamy and hot. Stoves overflowed with food, ovens were stuffed with large entrees, and cooking equipment completely covered the counters. Confusion was everywhere, people and food collided, and shouts in German and English could be heard. Yet the waiterhad no trouble getting there finding what he needed. Just as he started to leave, he bumped into another chef.

"What the de—hey!-I don't remember seeing you around here before!" he exclaimed.

"Well, that's because I've never been here before," said the waiter, "I just got hired today."

The chef's eyes narrowed. "Oh? If that's so, then why didn't the _Lieter _notify me?"

"Well, I don't know," said the waiter hurriedly, "Perhaps he forgot or something." he added as he scooted around the bigger, older man.

Scurrying around the round tables, he made his way to the booth hidden behind the curtain, where the couple were seated. He set down their dishes and tipped his head. "And what will be for the main course, or do you two need more time?"

"Let's finish this first and then we'll decide," the handsome young man replied.

"All right then," the waiter said, heading back to the kitchen, "Enjoy!"

"We will!" was the reply.

The waiter started to hurry back towards the kitchen until he noticed a skinny middle-aged man sitting alone in a private booth. He walked over to him. "Anything I can get for you sir?"

"Not right now, thank you," came the reply.

The waiter peeked over his shoulder as if to make sure no one was watching him, then shut the drapes and sat down across from the older gentleman.

"Well, I've been keeping an eye on them," said Artie in his normal voice, "They're a lovely pair of lovestruck turtle doves. Flirting, laughing, acting like they've known each other since forever."

Richmond sighed, "This is going to be an unpleasant job. But maybe if we could find out the origins of that perfume, we could break the trance and Jim will realize he's not interested in her."

Artie fooled with his thick, fake black mustache. "I wouldn't place my money on it, Colonel. It may not work."

Richmond sighed. "I guess you're right, Gordon. It's just I don't want to give up on West."

"I know," said Artie sympathetically, "Neither do I. But for now, we just have to focus on one thing at a time."

"What are you going to do now?" asked Richmond.

"Well, now that I'm here-"

Artie was cut off by a gravelly voice calling "Waiter! Are you back there?"

"Better go." said Artie with a tip at Richmond. He hurried to where the call had come from—the private booth where the handsome couple was seated. He rushed behind the curtains. "Yes?"

"We're ready for the main course." the man—Jim—said.

"Of course," said Artie, putting on his best accent. He took out his notepad. "And what can I get for you tonight?"

"Kassler for me, please." smiled Jim.

"All right," said Artie. He turned to the woman. "And you, my dear?"

"Schäuferle, please." she said.

"All right," said the waiter, "I shall be back."

He then disappeared behind the curtain again, leaving the couple alone.

…...

Jim savored the last bite of Kassler. "Delicious," he said, setting his fork down. "This place serves really good German cuisine."

"Indeed," agreed Vi, dabbing at her lips with a napkin. "I simply must eat here again."

"And so we shall, darling," said Jim, "So we shall. Do you think you have room for dessert?"

"I think so," said Vi, "I wonder what they've got."

"When our waiter gets back, we'll ask," said Jim.

As if on cue, the waiter appeared through the curtains. "How was everything?"

"Very good, thank you," said Jim.

"Do you think you have enough room for dessert?" the waiter asked.

"Yes, and we'd like to see a dessert menu, please." said Jim.

"As you wish." the waiter disappeared behind the curtain and came back with the menu. "I'll be back in a moment." He turned and left.

Jim squinted at the list, nodded, then handed it to Vi. Her eyes lit up immediately. "Oh, I think I'll try the Eierschecke. It sounds like a tasty cake."

"All right," said Jim, "And I think I'll try their Mohnkuchen. Poppy-seed cake."

"Good idea."

The waiter appeared again, and Jim gave him their orders.

"All right then!" said the waiter, "It shall be here shortly."

He then hurried off, and Jim turned back to Vi. "Now, where were we?"

"I believe we were talking about Brian King." said Vi.

Jim smiled and shook his head. "You're trying to make me jealous, aren't you?"

"Of course I am," laughed Vi, "But wait until I tell you about the time he proposed..."

…...

Artie hurried back into the noisy, slightly less crowded kitchen and gave his order to the chef, who nodded and began work immediately. Just as Artie was about to head out the door, a shout stopped him.

"Hey you!"

Artie spun around to see a wild eyed, dark haired man in a chef's outfit with sausages around his neck glaring at him. "What are _you _doing here?!" he thundered, pointing the butcher knife at him.

Artie straightened his jacket and said in his best, crisp accent, "I am working here. Isn't that insanely obvious?"

"Of course it is!" snapped the irate chef, "But I can't help feelin' like I've seen you someplace before, Mister! Who are you?"

"I am Gerald Gregorius Edidgius," he said indignantly, "And I am merely a humble waiter and not a low-down pastry chef like _you_."

"Ah ha!" exclaimed the chef, "I was right! I _have _seen you before! You were that lousy chef who couldn't bake a cake a dog would eat!"

"I beg your pardon," said Artie, "But it just so happens that I am not that unfortunate, despicable cousin of mine, the lousy chef Herr Ostropolyer!"

The chef stared after him in angry amazement as he left.

Artie darted around the sea of tables until he reached the colonel's booth and hurried inside and sat down.

"Well Gordon?"

"Well, someone recognizes me in the kitchen. Fortunately, not as myself, but as someone else I was." said Artie, "I still think I can get away with it, though."

"What have you learned about West and the girl?" asked Richmond.

"Well nothing, I'm afraid, aside from the fact that they're in love," said Artie, "But I thought I'd catch them on the way out and ask the woman what her perfume is and where she got it. And her name."

"But West won't let her!" said Richmond.

"Not to me," said Artie, "But to a humble waiter, yes."

"Eierschecke and Mohnkuchen!" shouted a voice, "Come and get it!"

"Must go!" cried Artie, jumping up and running back to the kitchen. He grabbed the platter containing the cakes and hurried over to the couple's private booth and set it down. "There you are! I do hope you'll enjoy it!"

"We will, thank you." smiled Jim.

"Just holler when you're ready!" called Artie, disappearing behind the curtain once more.

…...

Jim stared after the waiter as he left. "I don't know why, but that waiter reminds me of someone."

"Really? Who?" asked Vi between bites of cake.

"Well, I'm not really sure," said Jim, "But he looks like my partner...but I don't know. I mean, a lot of people look like him," he chuckled.

"Who's your partner?" asked Vi.

"Artemus Gordon," he replied, "He was the meddler who demanded why I was taking you home."

"I'm sure he didn't mean any harm," said Vi.

Jim shook his head. "He's stolen my girlfriends before. He probably doesn't even care about his fianceé anymore."

"Isn't that a little harsh, Jim?" asked Vi, "Maybe he's lonely."

"Well, there are other girls out there," said Jim, "He just can't seem to get it through his head you're off-limits."

"Too bad," said Vi, "But I don't think you'll have to worry about him. I wouldn't trade you for anything or anyone in the world."

"Thanks Vi," said Jim, "I knew you wouldn't."

Vi patted Jim's hand. He smiled back. "Well, let's finish eating, then I'll take you home and get back to the hotel."

"Fine with me."

So they finished their desserts and called for the waiter to bring the bill, who hurried over immediately. "You've all enjoyed the meal, I trust?" he asked.

"Oh, very much," said Jim, "Didn't you, Vi?"

"Of course I did," said Vi.

"That's wonderful to hear!" said the waiter as he stuffed the bills into his pocket. He started to go, then turned around and said, "Say, uh, Miss, uh...?"

"Violetta Lee Carleton," smiled Vi.

"As I was about to say, Miss Carleton, I much admire that scent of perfume—what's it called?"

"Oh, it's called Romantic Jasmine," she replied.

"Where do you think I might find it?" asked the waiter.

"I believe Lora's Emporium has it," she replied, "Why?"

"Why I want to bring some back for my wife, of course," replied the waiter, "I promised her I'd bring her back an American souvenir."

"Well, I'm sure that would make a nice gift for any girl," she replied, "Well, good night, and good luck finding it!"

"Thank you, Miss! Goodnight to you two!" the waiter called after them.

Jim and Vi stepped out into the dark, starry night. "I want to thank you so much for taking me out to dinner tonight, Jim," said Vi.

"My pleasure," said Jim, "Why don't I go ahead and take you home?"

"That would be lovely, thank you," said Vi.

They linked arms and strode out into the night sky.

…...

Artie hurried to Richmond's booth and sat down.

"Well?"

"They're leaving," said Artie. "Jim and Violetta Lee Carleton."

Richmond's eyes suddenly became very big. "Violetta Lee Carleton!" he gasped.

Artie stared at him, puzzled. "You know her?"

"She's wanted for the disappearance of five men over the past six years," said Richmond, "I'd better look up her file again!"

"And I got the name of the perfume," said Artie, "It's the Romantic Jasmine, and Lora's Emporium has it. I saw it in the outskirts. I think we should drop in tomorrow."

"Good idea." said Richmond, getting up. "Well, I think I'd better get back to my office and have a look at those files."

"And I'll head back to the hotel," said Artie, "And I'll keep a close eye on Jim and inform you on any changes. Good luck on finding that file."

"Thank you, Gordon," said Richmond as he exited. "See you tomorrow."

…...

The moon was high and the stars were sparkling as Jim pulled up in front of Violetta's house about a half-hour later. He helped her out and walked to her to the door.

"I'd like to thank you again for the wonderful dinner," she said as the reached the front door, "I'm in love with German cuisine now."

"There is nothing like it," said Jim, "especially with Miss Valgorba's."

"Indeed," said Vi. She slipped her hand into Jim's. "Jim, how long are you going to be staying in New Orleans?"

"Only for a week or two," said Jim, "Then it's back to my job. Although I am thinking of resigning."

"Why would you want to do that?" asked Vi.

"Because I love you, and want to be close to you. I can't if I'm in the service," said Jim.

"You know I love you too, Jim, but I can't let you give up your job." said Vi.

"I'll find something else," said Jim, "Besides, I was getting a little tired of it anyway, with Artie and the low wages and everything."

"But what will you do?" asked Vi.

"I don't know, probably work on a farm or as a clerk or something until I find a better job," said Jim.

"Well, if you're absolutely certain," said Vi. "I think the owner of the General store is looking for a clerk. You could apply for that job until you find something more substantial."

"Good idea, Vi," said Jim. "Well, I'd better be heading back. Artie's expecting me."

"All right." Vi kissed his lips. "Goodnight Jim."

"Good night, Vi," said Jim, "I'll see you tomorrow afternoon."

Vi gave him one last smile before disappearing into her house. For a moment Jim just stood there, thinking only of what his life with this woman could be. Then he mounted his horse and rode off to his hotel under the night sky.

…...

Artie hurried down the hotel hall as fast as he could, hoping Jim was taking his sweet time with Vi. He reached his room, fumbled around wildly in his pockets for the key, unlocked the door, and hurried inside. He yanked off the bald-cap and hurried peeled off his whiskers, stuffing them into the pockets of his pants. Scrambling wildly through the closet, he jumped into some dark pants and just started buttoning his white shirt when there was a knock at the door. He rushed to the desk and sat down. "Come in."

The door opened, revealing a grinning Jim. "Hi Artie! What have you been doing?"

"Oh, just been working on this report for Colonel Richmond," said Artie, "I tell ya Jim, that man is worse than any teacher when it comes to writing."

"Oh, definitely," said Jim, sitting down across from him. "And, hey, I'm sorry you couldn't come on my date. I think you would have enjoyed it a little too much."

"Oh, yes, I'm sure I would," said Artie, not looking up from his paper, "Was the food any good?" _Maybe I can get him on his good side._

"The best," smiled Jim, "I'll have to take her back sometime."

"That's nice, Jim," said Artie, still engrossed in his work.

"Awww, Artie, you're not getting jealous now, are you?" asked Jim with a smirk.

The cold, slimy tone in his friend's voice nearly made Artie shudder. "Course I'm not. Why should I be jealous?"

"Maybe it's because you're just lonely," said Jim,"Your fianceé is still in Washington for training, and you're all alone. Maybe she doesn't mean much to you anymore."

Artie's head shot up. "How could you say that, Jim? She means the whole world to me, you know that!"

"Do you?" asked Jim, raising an eyebrow.

Artie nearly growled. "That woman of yours means absolutely nothing to me! I have no interest in her! If you want the truth, I don't even like her. She's just too much good looks and sweetness for me! What makes you even _think _that I could be jealous of you?"

"Because I have a woman right now and you don't," Jim bit back, "You probably think Sandy doesn't love you anymore."

"Of course I know she does, Jim!" shouted Artie, "What is the matter with you? You've been acting so strangely since you came upon that woman! Why? What am I doing that's upsetting you? You know I want nothing to do with her!"

"Don't you get smart with me, pal," Jim's words lashed back likes snakes, "It's _you _who has been acting peculiar since you saw her. I think you really want her. Don't think I don't know."

Artie swallowed the fury that threatened to lash out. "I'm sorry, Jim," he said quietly with a sigh, "You're right. I am lonely. But I know Sandy hasn't forgotten me. Just one more year. Then she'll be mine."

Jim smirked. "I thought so," he said, "No wonder you're so interested in her. Well, I'm not going to let you sneak behind my back and take her away from me."

"Will you cut that out?!" barked Artie, "Really Jim, what has gotten into you?! You never used to be this way, and you've been acting like a different person since you came across that woman! I feel like I barely know you anymore! Just tell me what's wrong and I'll try to fix it as best as I can."

"_You're _what's wrong!" Jim barked back, standing up. "You're _everything _that's wrong, and all these things you have been doing to me are what's bothering me!"

"That's enough Jim!" yelled Artie, "I don't want to spend the rest of the night like this. Now, why don't we just turn in and discuss this in the morning."

"Artie-" began Jim.

"This topic is closed for discussion tonight," said Artie sarcastically as he got up. "If it's that bad, it can wait until morning."

Jim's eyes narrowed in hatred. "Get out." he whispered under his breath.

Artie started at him, unable to comprehend what he had just heard. "What?"

"I said get out of here," growled Jim.

"You can't just kick me out, Jim," Artie said in a quiet, almost hurt voice, "It's my room too. Come on, buddy. Look, I'm sorry. I suppose I'm being too hard on you. Please, Jim, just let me explain."

Jim rapped the table hard, making Artie jump. The vase and teacup rattled. "Do I have to get the manager to drag you out? I told you to leave! Right now!"

Artie sighed. "All right, Jim. I guess it will do you good."

"It will," muttered Jim as he headed to the closet and pulled out a few of Artie's things. With his free arm, he scooped up some things from Artie's desk. "Here," he said as he tossed them at Artie. "Now take this and go spend the night somewhere else."

Artie caught them like the expert he was. "All right. Good night Jim."

Jim didn't reply. He walked into the bathroom and slammed the door.

Artie then left and walked back downstairs to the lobby. The clerk was at his desk, writing down in his book. Artie cleared his throat. "Excuse me, sir, but could I get a room?"

The clerk looked up, surprised. "But sir, don't you already have a room? Don't you share one with a Mr. James West?"

"Uh, yes, well, uh, we just had a minor disagreement and decided to split up for the night," said Artie, scratching his ear nervously, "you do understand, don't you?"

"Of course," said the clerk, handing him a key, "very well, you shall room 35, on the next floor."

"Thank you so much, sir," said Artie as he dug some bills out of his pocket and set them on the desk, "I really appreciate it."

"Have a good night sir," he called back as Artie hurried up the stairs.

_I sure won't be having one tonight, _he thought as he reached the room and pulled out the key and turned the lock. _If only I could figure out a way to help Jim. Then, maybe I could get some sleep._

He walked inside and set his things down. He was too tired and weary to even put them away. He just shut the door and stood against it, the awful scene replaying in his mind. _You know that wasn't Jim. He didn't truly mean it. It's that woman and her perfume. Tomorrow you'll see for yourself. _

But the thought didn't comfort him. Jim's cold, cruel words buzzed in his head. _You're what's wrong! You don't care for your fianceé anymore!_

Artie couldn't take it anymore. He rushed to his bed and leaped onto it, burying his face in the pillows, holding back tears of anger, hurt and loneliness. His leg brushed against something rough. He lifted his head and saw Sandy's picture lying next to it. He inched it closer with his finger at looked at the face smiling into the camera with sparkly eyes—almost the same as the one she wore when Artie proposed to her.

Artie lied back down and fell asleep, hugging the picture near his chest.


End file.
